


131 - Cuddling is for Losers

by storiesaboutvan



Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen (Band)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Mini Fic, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 10:52:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17405564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan
Summary: Filling the prompt “one about the girl not liking to cuddle and van at first being like ‘yeah it’s corny’ and agreeing with you but one night when he thinks your asleep he pulls you in for a cuddle and when he gets caught he’s all embarrassed and flustered about it”





	131 - Cuddling is for Losers

Warm fuzzies were not your area of expertise. It's not like you were cold; you were full of love and life and all your friends were very aware of that. However, you were also emotional independent and didn't rely on verbal reassurance or physical acts to know everything was okay. That, combined with the lust-driven meeting of you and Van and the summer heat plaguing everyone's houses, meant cuddling was never a requirement.

Van's hands were under your jacket and in your pants before you even got home on the night you met. Your thighs were sticking to the fake leather of the taxi's back seat, and they were pushed apart by his exploring fingers. He didn't seem to mind the judging glances in the rear view mirror. Van tipped well, maybe to make up for the show, maybe he would have anyway. Inside, on the messy sheets of your bed, you fucked hard. Hours later, you got up and returned with glasses of water. Van was already asleep, and you watched him for a minute, brushing the hair away from his face and tucking it behind his ear. Evidently, he was not a cuddler either, and you were happy.

The subsequent dates featured very little physical contact with the exception of kissing, but even that was done with bodies apart. It was just too fucking hot, and you were just not into hand holding. Within the cooler walls of your apartment and his cottage, there was only slightly more touching. Really though, it was limited to sex.

One night, as you curled around your pillow on your side of the bed (which you never out loud referred to it as, in case Van was under the impression that he, therefore, had a side of the bed too), Van sighed hard. Flipping over, you studied his face as he stared up at the ceiling. He was lying on his back, arms up and folded under his head. He was naked, and you visually tracked the line of hair from his belly button down to where the sheets covered him.

"What?" you asked.

"What what?"

"That sigh was big,"

"Just a sigh," he replied, looking over at you. You narrowed your eyes, and he smirked. "When it gets colder, are you gonna be more cuddly, or is this it?"

"Think we'll probably break up by the wintertime. Getting sick of you," you joked. He threw a pillow across the bed at you. "I'm just messin’. This is it. Why? Am I not giving you enough?" You were asking seriously, but your tone was still laced with sarcasm. Van shook his head.

"No, I'm good. The whole huggin' and cuddling thing is a bit corny," he said.

"Yep. Glad you agree. I like space," you replied, starfishing out on the bed in demonstration. Van watched you twinkle your fingers and toes, and he smiled at you.

…

As the snow began to fall and the sheets on your bed were replaced with thick quilts, as promised, there was no additional cuddling. You'd let Van wrap his arm around your shoulders if you were standing outside a bar having a smoke, but that was out of necessity. It was cold, after all. 

One night, after agreeing to not brave the pouring rain for the sake of a beer, you stayed in. You, Van, and Larry had mac and cheese for dinner, then marathoned all seven episodes of Big Little Lies. At first, you had to bribe them into watching by being the one to pack the pipe and make the tea, but the show's soundtrack, engaging acting, and undeniably powerful narratives drew them in. You were all on the edge of your seats when their lives came crashing down on the steps outside the party.

After, in bed, you and Van talked. "What is wrong with men?" he said, tired and in some way hurt by the show.

You laughed. "That's a big, big question, Van,"

"I never do bad stuff, right? Like, the sneaky little stuff?"

"Oh, honey," you replied, moving closer to him and pulling him into a hug. He clung to you tight. "No. You're good and pure and perfect,"

"I love you so much," he whispered, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

"I love you too," you replied, moving to look at him. He objected to the repositioning but was placated by your kiss.

Your bodies came apart and you got comfy on your side. Van's breathing and yours both became steady and deep. It was taking you longer to fall asleep though. The minutes ticked by. You couldn't stop thinking about the show. Then, Van started to move, very slowly. He was trying to not wake you. You contained giggles as he came closer and you felt his head press lightly to your back. When you didn't react, his body pressed against yours. He determined you were still asleep, so he wrapped his arms around you. A small sigh, and he was happy cuddled up to you. Oh, Van.

"What are you doing?" you asked loudly and clearly. He shook, startled, and sprung apart from you quickly. You laughed and turned the bedside lamp on. His cheeks were already going red.

"What?"

"What?! Van… Do you want to cuddle?" you teased.

"No."

He avoided eye contact and fussed with the quilt, making it straight and returning to his side of the bed. He closed his eyes.

"Van-"

"No. All good, yeah? Go to sleep,"

"Baby…" you started, turning the light off and climbing back under the covers with him. You pushed his arms away from where they were defensively held across his chest. "You don't have to pretend,"

"Not,"

"You're not? So you don't want to cuddle? Not even if I did?" you asked, wrapping your leg around his and holding his chest tight. His chin was rested on the top of your head and he was warm. You felt his hesitation.

"You don't like it," he replied, but still curled around you too.

"I'm convincible."


End file.
